


Carnival of Rust

by orphan_account



Series: Wolves of the Rust [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Canon Divergence, M/M, More characters to come, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Burn, Violence, technically Stiles is a werewolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knew from a young age that him and his mother were different. After all, what family lived with wolves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

For all of his life, Stiles knew that the things that went bump in the night were real.

His mom had been very open with him when it came to this fact, bringing him along to weekly meetings with Talia Hale, the resident werewolf pack’s Alpha, when he was old enough to understand. She said that it was important for them to keep in contact with fellow wolves. Stiles always laughed and told her that they weren’t wolves, they just had wolves in their house. Claudia would only smile in return and agree with him wistfully.

Maria and Damon had been with Claudia since Stiles could remember. They were her constant companions, following her everywhere she went. John did not seem to mind, since they did the same whenever he was home from work. Maria had red-brown fur and blue eyes, while Damon had coal black fur and green eyes. Stiles loved them both.

The meetings with Talia were fun as well. Her children were slow to trust him, oftentimes not talking to Stiles. He eventually figured out to play by himself when the youngest, a girl around his age named Cora, warmed up to him. They would rough house normally, and Stiles more often than not lost when they did, but the two still had fun.

Claudia did not talk much about what she and Talia would be meeting about, just saying that it was two friends catching up on the past week and getting to be away from the children for a while.

When word that the fire happened, leaving the two eldest of the Hale children and their uncle alive, Stiles had only been ten. Maria and Damon curled around him before Claudia said the news that no one else survived the fire. Stiles immediately insisted on seeing Laura and Derek. He might not have been close to them, but he was still familiar. And he also had some of Cora’s clothes from when she had slept over the last time.

Claudia let him go to the funeral. Stiles made sure to keep Cora’s clothes in a zip-lock baggie, and waited in the back while the proceedings went on. Once the funeral was done, Stiles weaved through the crowds until he reached the grieving siblings. “Laura?” he asked, knowing that she liked him a little better than Derek did. The female Hale glanced over, her eyes flashing red before she realized that it was Stiles. She sighed before rushing over to him.

“Stiles, thank you for coming,” she said, kneeling down to draw him into a hug. Stiles gladly returned it. When they separated, he held out the baggie.

“I made sure to not wash them,” he said by way of explanation. “Should still smell somewhat like family.” Laura’s face crumpled, a bright smile crossing her face.

“Oh Stiles, you shouldn’t have,” she whispered, reverently taking the baggie from him. “Derek, it’s Cora’s clothes.”

The fifteen year old moved closer upon hearing that. “Cora?” he asked in a slightly broken voice. Stiles nodded.

“She would sometimes sleep over with me and Scott. Don’t worry, Scott doesn’t know.” He knew to not inform his best friend of his life about the Hale family secret. It just was not right. Laura smiled again, hugging the baggie to her chest. Derek closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Both of them nodded.

Stiles said his good byes to the Hales before heading to Claudia’s car, a light blue jeep that he hoped to one-day inherit. He wanted to get back to Maria and Damon; Maria had just given birth to a small litter of puppies a week ago, and Stiles had been smitten with them from day one.

It was when he saw a black SUV next to the jeep that Stiles knew something was wrong. A woman with red hair was standing by the driver’s side door of the jeep, casually checking her nails for specks of dirt. Stiles recognized her from a few of the weekly meetings: Kate Argent, Derek’s ex-girlfriend. He tried backing away in an attempt to reach Laura and Derek, but Kate saw him faster than he could move. “Ah, young Genim, how nice of you to join us,” she said with a venomous smile on her face. She sauntered closer when Stiles froze. “Now then, if you want to see your mom whole again, you’ll be coming with me, quietly, okay?”

Stiles really had no say in the matter, considering he was grabbed by the shoulder and pushed along to the SUV. He could have sworn he heard Derek yelling for him when the door slammed shut, but considering he was then injected with some form of tranquilizer it could have been his imagination.

He did not know how long he was unconscious, only that once he came to he was shackled facedown on a rough wooden table. All he could see was a ratty staircase to his left and dirty cement brick walls. A draft passed him by, bringing a shiver along his bared upper torso. When his shirt had been lost, Stiles didn’t know. He could feel something sticky rolling down his sides, and knew it was blood. The sickly sweet scent filled his lungs, and beneath it all he got the distinct scent of recently burnt wood.

Then a fog lifted from his senses. Pain lanced down his back, curling around his shoulders, bringing a weak whimper from his throat. A familiar voice shushed him, and a kind hand petted his hair. A sigh slipped from his lips, recognizing the feel of the hand in his short, thick hair. “Genim, quiet, momma’s here,” he heard his mother whisper, felt her lips against his right ear and her breath pushing against his skin. Another whimper escaped him. Her lips pressed against his temple. “You have to stay quiet, Genim, they don’t know I broke my chains, don’t know I called for your father. I’m right here, honey.”

Footsteps resounded down the staircase. Stiles’ eyes jerked there as he saw Kate storm downstairs, a bloody hunting knife in her right hand. With a snarl she marched over, yanking Claudia away even as she clutched weakly to the table Stiles was chained to. Two more sets of footsteps followed, and he watched in horror as Derek was pushed into the basement. Kate barely spared him a glance as her partner chained him up, not bothering to remove the gag that Derek was baring his teeth around, before returning her attention to Claudia. “Resurrect them,” was all she said, pushing Claudia away before laying the tip of her knife on Stiles’ back.

Stiles watched as every muscle in Derek’s body froze when he spotted the boy’s back. Hazel eyes widened, not looking away from what had to be a bloody mess all along his back.

Claudia only said, “I cannot.”

Kate snarled and began pressing into Stiles’ back. A whine caught in his throat, the pain dulling to a muted roar.

That was when they heard it: the first whimper of a pup.

Stiles opened eyes he did not remember squeezing shut, watching as a wolf puppy toddled out of a side passageway he had not seen. A good number followed behind the first, all of them whimpering and whining.

Kate began chuckling. “Oh, you cannot, you say?” The knife lifted from his skin and trailed down his side as she walked towards the passageway. A choked sob left his throat as she did; a small cut started forming where the sharp tip dragged against his skin.

That was when hell broke loose.

As one, the puppies charged at Kate, nipping at her ankles. One managed to get a good grip on her calf and was not letting go. Using the distraction brought by the puppies, Derek broke out of the chains and knocked the other man out. Claudia stood as well, stumbling over to Stiles and fumbling with the shackles.

From there, things started blending together. Stiles remembered seeing Derek chasing Kate out through a passageway, getting out of the shackles, feeling rough tongues lapping at his skin, and then the sirens. Then, he passed out from blood loss.

\- - -

Waking up in the hospital was something that Stiles hoped he never had to do again. Bandages padded his back, which only dully burned instead of burnt white hot. His dad was sitting beside his bed, looking worn even in sleep. The antiseptic scent burned his nasal passages with each breath.

Nurse McCall entered the room he was in, a kind smile on her face. “How’re you doing Stiles?”

He nodded, throat too dry to speak.

“Good. Scott’s been taking excellent notes in class, and has been picking up your work for the past few days. Once you feel up to it, I’ll bring him here to help you out on that.” Nurse McCall quickly checked the machines that Stiles was hooked up to. “Now then, you have healed up nicely from those nasty injuries on your back, but we could not stich them up. You’re going to have to be careful even after you get discharged in a day or two. Don’t do anything too strenuous, and make sure to get your dad to help you change the bandages daily.” Stiles nodded as she continued, “I know you want information on your mom as well, so here is what I know: she had been taken to the emergency room, came in with a major stab wound around the same time you did. The doctor’s did everything they could, but…” Her face fell, and Stiles didn’t need to know anything more. “According to the witness the police had, she got in the way of you and the knife.”

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Knowing that your mother bled out on an operating table because of a wound she got protecting you hurt more than knowing that she was no longer around.

Nurse McCall placed a gentle hand on Stiles’, her face pinched. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I’ll come check up on you in a little while, when Scott gets out, okay?” He mutely nodded, eyes staring to the blanket covering his legs.

When she left, his dad woke up and moved to curl up around Stiles. They did not say anything. They didn’t need to.

\- - -

Stiles soon grew past the initial feeling of guilt, but never truly let it go. The night he was discharged, both Maria and Damon passed on, their connection to his mother too strong. They were buried in their favorite part of the Preserve, a clearing that was difficult to get to on foot. Stiles took up the care of their two pups, a pure black one he named Garrett and a pure white one named Snow. They were little menaces, but helped keep Stiles from going over the deep end. He was grounded by them, which meant that whenever he was not around one or both he was a wild card, always twitchy and not concentrating very well.

The Hales had left shortly afterwards as well. Laura had visited before they left, though, giving Stiles a necklace that had her pack’s symbol carved onto the pendant. It was a simple silver circle hanging from a black cord. She said that it would bring him protection from other packs, and from Hunters like Kate. The next day the two Hale children were gone, as if they had never been there to begin with.

He kept the necklace, finding two more with similar designs on them in the ruins of the Hale house on the pup’s third full moon for his father and Scott. The other boy was practically family to him, staying every other night at the Stilinski household because of that father of his. It was his only safe haven from the man. Soon enough, Scott fell in love with Snow, and Snow with Scott. All the time, Snow would be plastered to the boy’s side, chatting excitedly in Stiles’ head much like Maria and Damon did. Garrett was much more subdued, luckily, and managed to keep Snow’s antics somewhat controlled when Stiles could not.

Because of the twitchiness, Stiles was soon diagnosed with ADHD. The first time he tried to enter his basement, looking for a book his mother had down there, he was overwhelmed with his first panic attack. Garrett stuck by his hip for weeks afterwards, walking Stiles to and from school everyday. Snow followed, only because they would meet up with Scott and he would get bored at home without Garrett. They helped more than the Adderall and the anxiety medication ever did.

The scars never really faded, over the six years that slowly passed. Stiles learned a long time before to keep up a mask around others, never wearing no-sleeve shirts or going swimming without a shirt on. But not only that, he kept how steady he really was from others as well, since it was public knowledge that he had ADHD and was never right in his head at times. Running with Garrett and Snow more than once a month in the woods kept him in shape, and wrestling with them helped keep his strength up whenever the impromptu sparring sessions with his dad had a lull in them, or were just no longer a challenge for him. Around others, he remained twitchy Stiles, who would sit on the bench during lacrosse games and always tripped down the same flight of stairs everyday.

It just meant that he had an advantage over everyone else, when the Hales finally returned to Beacon Hills.


	2. Chapter 1

You would think that after having been kidnapped and attacked when he was ten, and losing his mother to that same attack, Stiles would be staying away from situations such as this.

Stiles waited until his father’s patrol car slid down the street before he grabbed his gray hoodie and bolted through the house. Half of a dead body, found in lonely Beacon Hills Preserve? Finally, some excitement in town.

As he ran through the front door, a pitch-black wolf and a pure white wolf fell in line beside him, the black one huffing slightly. He only grinned down into the black’s amber eyes and said, “Come on, Garrett, you enjoy this as much as I do.”

Garrett, who had grown used to Stiles’ rambunctiousness years before, could only roll his eyes and followed after the teen. Snow shook his head at Garrett, snagging and tugging at one of the elder wolf’s ears. A playful growl was all that Garrett did to reprimand the younger wolf.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he ran to Scott’s house. “No taking chunks out of each other. Snow, when we leave, stick by Scott no matter what, got it?” The white wolf yipped excitedly, bouncing along behind Stiles. “Garrett, if there is anything dangerous out there, warn me about it and we’ll all leave.”

Stiles heard his huff even before Garrett grumbled, “ _Like I’d let your idiotic ass get hurt. Grandpa would be sad, and angry at us._ ”

He held back a giggle. His wolves had taken to calling his dad grandpa a long time ago.

The three of them made quick time heading towards Scott’s house, the route familiar even at the dead of night. Stiles grinned as he planned a way to get his best friend to head into the woods with him. Motioning for his wolves to stay hidden, Stiles crept onto the roof above the porch. Once there, he thumped hard where he knew Scott’s bed was.  The sounds of his best friend moving around in his room reached Stiles’ sensitive ears, and he smirked as he carefully crept to the edge of the roof. Oh, was Scott going to have a surprise waiting for him when he gets out there…

Stiles just was not expecting the baseball bat to come out with Scott.

Once they both calmed down, Stiles jumped off the roof and started pleading for Scott to go into the woods with him. “Come on, Scott, Garrett and Snow are gonna be with us every step of the way,” he pulled out as a last resort. Stiles knew that even mentioning the two wolves around Scott was like telling a kid that they could get something from a candy shop. He had his best friend wrapped around his little finger when they come into conversations.

Scott glared and grumbled, but finally relented. “I hate you some days,” Scott said. Stiles knew he didn’t mean it, though. There was no venom in his voice.

“Yeah, right. Let’s get going,” Stiles said, waving Scott’s comment off.

As they fell in step, Garrett and Snow made their ways out of hiding to slide up to the sides of their respective people. Stiles watched as Scott unconsciously threaded his fingers into Snow’s fur, no longer put off by the height of his supposed “dog.” Boy, was he happy that his dad managed to change those pound papers. Kept them under the radar.

Lucky him.

Once in the woods, Stiles passed over the lone flashlight he had managed to grab on his way out of the house to Scott. After running alongside Snow and Garrett on full moons in these woods, he was almost sure that he did not need it to see where he was going. Besides, it helped Scott feel safer. He waved Scott off again when he asked if Stiles needed a light. “Nah man, I’m fine. Walk through these woods all the time,” he half-lied, hating that he needed to do that. It got Scott off his back, at least.

“So do we know what we’re looking for?”

Stiles glanced back at Scott. “Half of a dead girl.”

Scott looked disgusted, but only asked, “Do we know which half?”

Stiles paused, thinking. “Actually, that might have been nice to overhear.” Scott groaned.

“Oh my god, Stiles! We seriously don’t know what we’re looking for, do we?”

“Not really.”

Scott scoffed. “Man, I really should be back in bed trying to sleep instead of this.”

“Fine, you turn back. Snow will follow you to your house. Me and Garrett will keep looking.”

Stiles pushed on, making his way up a steep embankment, hearing Scott ask for him to wait. “ _Stiles, seriously, wait for him. Scott’s trying pull his inhaler out of his pocket._ ” He held back a curse when Snow said that. Of course his asthma would start acting up.

Garrett growled low in his throat, catching Stiles’ shirt between his teeth. He glanced back, eyebrows furrowed. “ _Grandpa and company incoming. What should we do, Stiles?_ ”

Every muscle in his body froze. He had not calculated for his dad to be heading the opposite way as them. Biting his bottom lip, Stiles made a snap decision. “ _Snow, get Scott out of here. Cover his scent so that the police can’t find you guys. Garrett, we’re getting ourselves caught._ ”

He burst through the undergrowth, coming face to face with one of the German shepherds on the police squad. The theatrics did the trick, as always, and his dad only dragged him to his feet. “What are you doing here? I thought we had talked about privacy the other day, and you had promised to stop listening in on my phone conversations.”

Stiles grinned. “What’re you talking about? I didn’t overhear anything. Garrett wanted a run, Snow’s back at the house guarding like a good dog.” The lie was easy to tell, having practiced it a long time ago with his dad to the point where not even his old man knew when he was lying. This seemed to be one of those times, as the Sheriff growled and gave him a dirty look.

“There is no one else out here with you?”

He shook his head, knowing that Snow would keep Scott hidden.

His dad shone the light behind him, unsuccessfully calling for Scott and Snow. When they – luckily – did not show up, he only received a dirtier look and his dad telling him to head home.

Stiles made a point of huffing and trudging through the underbrush, one of the deputies escorting him to the perimeter of the Preserve and watching until he made it a fair distance without turning back. He then reached out for Snow. “ _What’s going on, Snowflake? You’re silent._ ”

“ _Something else is out here._ ” Stiles froze. Not physically, he still kept walking back home, but mentally he just stopped. There was something out there. Some _thing_ , not someone. He made sure a long time ago for the wolves to know the difference. “ _I don’t like this. Scott is lost, and I can’t get him to go a different direction._ ” A pause and then, “ _Shit, we just found it. Stiles, he freaked out and accidentally fell down an embankment when red eyes flashed in the bushes. That something is close._ ”

Biting the inside of his bottom lip, Stiles thought over anything that could, in theory, be out there for Snow to call a “thing”. Nothing feasible was coming to mind, though, and that was what scared him the most. That normally meant something supernatural, and for all he knew it could be that a new werewolf had finally found the old Hale territory.

A sharp yelp, and a flash of pain across his ribs, brought Stiles out of his own mind. He grimaced, clutching at his left side. The yelp had come from Snow, who was whimpering in the back of Stiles’ mind. “ _Stiles, we need to go help him,_ ” Garrett growled out loud, his hackles raising.

“ _No,_ ” Snow whimpered out. “ _No, Gare, you get Stiles back to the house. I’ve got to keep Scott safe._ ” Both Stiles and Garrett were grinding their teeth at the thought, but Stiles still wove his fingers into Garrett’s scruff, kneading gently.

“ _You get back safe, you hear me? Keep me updated._ ”

\- - -

Stiles had been pacing the living room for the past hour, gritting his teeth with what he was hearing from Snow. Whatever had attacked them had bitten Scott in the side and had thrown Snow into a tree, cracking a few ribs. Scott had taken Snow home with him, but that did not mean that Stiles was not still worried. His wolves were a part of his family as well, and when one of them got hurt he hurt with them. The pain from Snow’s ribs, and a few cuts that Snow was not talking about, was keeping him up. Stiles was not worried, though. He never was.

He’s had practice hiding his exhaustion, among other things. He let his mind wander to that, using it as a distraction for the moment.

While he might be just a bench warmer on the lacrosse team, that was only because he had to stick with the act that he created years before. Chasing after and wrestling with Garrett and Snow had toughened him up, after all. He had more endurance than the entirety of the lacrosse team put together, could outrun them all if he put his mind to it, and could knock his dad down within ten seconds in their impromptu sparring sessions in the backyard. If he wanted to, he could have made Captain his freshman year in high school easily.

However, that was not the way to keep secrets, so he stayed as hyperactive/clumsy Stiles with too big of a brain for his own good. It was a good cover for how he really was.

With a shake of his head, he checked to make sure that Snow was sleeping before returning his thoughts to what had happened. While leading Scott back to his home, Snow had filled in all of the blank spots for Stiles:

The thing that had attacked Scott looked like a cross between a human and a wolf, had about twice Stiles’ strength, and yet smelled like it had been in a hospital. More specifically, he smelled of the long-term center in Beacon Hill’s sole hospital. While checking to make sure that Scott had been fine, Snow checked the bite wound; it was so similar to a wolf bite that Stiles shivered at the thought of what the thing could be. He thought that when Laura and Derek left that werewolves would never return to Beacon Hills. Apparently he was wrong in thinking that.

Sighing, Stiles headed up to his bedroom, having exhausted every other possibility of what it could have been. The only thing it could have been was a Lycanthrope.

That should have scared him more than it fascinated him.

\- - -

It came as no surprise to him when Scott asked to return to the Preserve after school let out. He had dropped his inhaler was the excuse, but Stiles knew that Scott wanted to make sure that the thing, the Lycanthrope Stiles corrected himself, was not out there anymore. Even if Scott was not listening to a single word he was saying about that subject.

They stopped by Stiles’ house before heading to the Preserve. Snow was resting due to the cracked ribs, so only Garrett was with them as they drove to the entrance and walked the rest of the way. Stiles was still unsure as to what they might find when they show up at that clearing, remembering Snow saying that they had found the body before being attacked. Depending upon whether the body had been a Lycanthrope or not they might just wind up bringing a puppy home with them, so Stiles brought along a hoodie even though it really wasn’t all that cold out.

When they passed into the old Hale property, Stiles paused. Scott seemed not to notice, too focused on locating where the body had been. Stiles used the opportunity to extend his senses, searching for anything that would indicate a Lycanthrope in the area. Scents from last night were duller, but he did pick up what Snow was talking about. Beneath the hospital scent, though, was a sliver of familiarity. Stiles had not been relatively close to the one Hale that had survived being actually in the fire, Peter, but he had most certainly had his fair share of the scent. If Stiles was correct, then the attacker might have been Peter Hale.

That was impossible, though. Peter was still in a coma.

“It was right here,” Scott yelled back to Stiles, shaking him from his thoughts. Carefully, Stiles moved closer to where Scott was now searching through the dried out leaves. He scented again, now finding a much more familiar scent to his attention: he smelled Laura’s favorite perfume mixed with the old blood, and over that was a woodsy scent he associated with her younger brother.

Derek wouldn’t have killed Laura, even if they were back. But he might have found the missing half, which would explain why it was not in the area.

Scott stood from where he had been crouched down. “My inhaler isn’t here,” he said, sounding slightly confused. Stiles was about to say something when near silent footsteps approached them.

“This is private property.”

Stiles jerked around, noting that Garrett had gotten between him and the leather-clad, older version of one Derek Hale standing before them, growling low in his throat. He let a hand drift to Garrett’s red collar, mandatory for when they had to leave the house during the day, so that he was ready to pull the large wolf back if necessary.

“Uh, sorry. Didn’t know,” he lied through his teeth, knowing that his heart was not jumping a beat. Oh he knew that it was private property.

Scott took up speaking then. “Yeah, we were just looking for something but...” Derek’s glare turned to him, and Stiles knew that the Lycanthrope before them heard Scott’s dry swallow as well. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

Faster than a normal eye could have seen, Derek threw Scott’s inhaler at the teen. Scott caught it without difficulty, solidifying Stiles’ thought that he had turned last night from the bite. Without another word, Derek turned and started walking off.

“ _You do not turn your back on me,_ ” Stiles heard a mere second before Garrett reared back, howling a challenge to Derek.

Everyone froze. Stiles was silently cursing Garrett to every possible torture the wolf could go through for even doing that stupid move. Scott was staring at him funny. And Derek...

Was slowly turning around with an unreadable expression on his face.

_Shit._

Garrett’s growls grew in volume, his posture threatening. “ _Invade my territory and act like it’s yours. Come a little closer and I’ll rip your throat out._ ” Stiles swallowed this time, glad that no one else could hear the threats that Garrett was making.

“Sorry. Don’t know what got into him. We’ll just be leaving now,” Stiles hurriedly said, already tugging Garrett along and motioning for Scott to move. Hopefully they’ll be out of there before any puppies start showing up.

A pitiful whine broke the silence that had fallen better than his voice did. Stiles closed his eyes, praying to Fenrir that it would not get closer to him. When the nudge at his ankle came, he finally broke down. Releasing Garrett, who was standing over the pup protectively, Stiles crouched down and scooped up the little girl. “Hey baby, what’re you doing out here all alone?”

Scott freaked. “Stiles, dude, what if that thing’s mom is out here?”

Stiles shook his head. “She’s not. Come on, sweetie, let’s get you out of here and fed, yeah?” He stood, shooting Derek a cautious glance. From the expression on his face, he was remembering that night six years ago as well.

“ _Mama._ ” The small voice came with a nuzzle from the little wolf pup in his arms. He sighed. Could this day get any worse?

“Scott, grab Garrett and let’s get out of here. I’ll explain later,” he muttered under his breath. Since he knew for certain that Scott was a Lycanthrope, he knew that Scott had heard him clearly. He then started walking quickly towards his mother’s old jeep before Derek could realize what just happened.

Hopefully, he’ll be back at home with no way for Derek to track him before that occurs.


	3. Chapter 2

Stiles had the little pup wrapped up in his hoodie by the time Scott managed to shove Garrett into the back seat and close the passenger door. “Hold her,” he ordered, shoving the pup into Scott’s arms before turning his baby on and throwing her into reverse right as a roar split through the air. Scott didn’t say a word, glancing between Stiles and the bundle in his arms, until they reached the main road.

“What the hell just happened, man? Your dog just howled at a complete stranger, a puppy came out of nowhere and suddenly you’re her favorite person, oh yeah, and you were talking werewolves not minutes before any of this,” Scott sounded incredulous as he spoke, becoming more hysterical as he did. Stiles rolled his eyes.

The little pup appeared to be nuzzling up to Scott, chanting, “ _Pup-bro, pup-bro, food food, pup-bro,_ ” as she did. Stiles shook his head at her. Of course. She would show up right at the tail end of a momma wolf’s litter cycle.

“Listen, Scott, I’ll be able to fully explain what is going on once the little sweetheart there gets fed. Until then, just wait until we get home.” Scott was giving him an eyebrow lift he knew it. “Scott, just trust me on this, okay?”

Stiles knew that Scott rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude.” He smirked as he saw the other teen’s fingers curling into the little pup’s fluffy red fur, but did not say a word.

Somehow, he managed to get back to the house not fifteen minutes later without breaking a single traffic law. New personal record. Stiles let Garrett out of the backseat while Scott held the little bundle in his arms as if unsure about whether or not she would eat him. With a roll of his eyes, Stiles relieved him of his burden and stomped to the front door. It was unlocked-who would really want to steal from the Sherriff’s house anyways; it was like begging for a death wish-so Stiles just let himself in and headed towards the couch. He carefully unwrapped the hoodie from the little girl and set her down on it. “Stay,” he said, looking straight into bright green eyes.

She only looked around before planting her nose to the couch. “ _Pack-home, pack-home, shniff shniff shniff._ ” Stiles face-palmed. He should have figured.

Stiles looked back to Scott, who was closing the door, and jerked his head towards the kitchen. He stood and headed there himself, intent on getting Garrett’s old bottle filled with formula for the new little one in the house. Time to face the music.

Scott placed himself against a counter while Stiles worked at making up the formula. “So, now can you tell me what is going on?” he was asked. Stiles hit his head coming out of the cabinet-the formula had been shoved way in the back years ago-when he heard a sound of pain from the living room.

He held up his index finger. “Garrett,” Stiles said threateningly. Luckily, the wolf was already scruffing her and setting her back on the couch.

“ _Stay._ ” A pause, which Stiles noted with a smirk as he went about mixing up the formula. “ _You think I am scared of you. I’m not._ ” He forced back a snort.

Stiles glanced over at his best friend. He was being glared at again.

With a sigh, Stiles placed the bottle in the microwave. “Okay, but when things start going a bit cockeyed, don’t say a word because you know I don’t lie,” he said as he placed ten seconds into the microwave before turning it on. Scott grunted his assent. “All right. You know all those things that as children we believed went bump in the night? Most of them are real.” He smoothed a hand over his head, suddenly wishing for some hair to run through his fingers. “Werewolves, faeries, things like that. The Hale family was a very prominent werewolf pack in this area of California; their territory took up all of Beacon Hills, all of the Preserve, and the forest outside of the Preserve, and that’s only what I knew about. Just like there are supernatural creatures, there are those who hunt them, either to keep the general populace from finding out, to make sure that the dangerous ones are taken care of, or just for the thrill of the hunt. It doesn’t matter to them.” The microwave beeped, and Stiles took his focus off of what his mother had taught him years before. He took the bottle out and tested the formula on the inside of his wrist. Just warm to the touch, perfect. He held up a finger again, before trekking into the living room.

The little pup was easy to scoop up from where she had buried herself partially underneath the cushions. She made a little yelp, which Stiles took advantage of by pushing the bottle into her mouth. He squeezed the bottle just slightly, and then the glare that she was giving him melted into a happy look as she suckled away at the bottle. Stiles sighed again, shaking his head. Puppies. Always so predictable.

“ _Aw, hell no!_ ” Stiles rolled his eyes as Snow stopped in the doorway between kitchen and living room. “ _No, no, Stiles you are trying to kill me, aren’t you?_ ”

“Get over it, Snow,” he sighed, focusing on the level of formula left in the bottle. “Once she’s done you get to meet your new baby sister.”

Snow whined. “ _Stiles, you have got to be kidding me._ ”

Garrett snorted. “ _Nope, now get your white butt in here and say hi._ ”

Stiles smiled down at Garrett. “You’re always on my side.” Garrett rolled his eyes and snorted again.

Scott leaned against the doorframe. “Okay, so I noticed a long time ago that you hold conversations with your dogs, but really? You’re still talking to them like they can talk back.” Stiles just blinked at him, pulling the bottle out of a now yawning mouth.

“Because they can, Scott. You just can’t hear them answer,” he said cryptically, placing the pup down on the floor. “Go on, sweetheart, say hi to uncle Snow.” The pup seemed to nod before toddling over to the dramatic white wolf. She nuzzled against his right leg.

“ _Pack,_ ” she said, a happy tone in her mind-voice. Stiles could not help but smile, even as Snow huffed.

“ _I guess we’re stuck with her, then._ ” Even as he said it, Stiles knew that Snow was going to be wrapped around her little pinky finger.

“Stiles,” Scott said, his voice sounding as if he had been trying to get his attention for a while. His amber eyes snapped up to Scott’s.

“Sorry, what?”

“What did you mean by I can’t hear them answer? They’re dogs, right?” Stiles shook his head.

“Close. Canis lupin would be a closer aspect of the truth, however.”

Scott looked dumbstruck. “Dude, you have wolves in your house?”

Stiles grinned, “Always did, Scott. Maria and Damon were pure wolf as well.”

“And you can hear them talk.”

“Like a normal human, just inside my head,” Stiles nodded.

“Stiles, pardon me if this is blunt, but what are you?”

He clicked his tongue. “Wish I had an answer for you, Scott. I really wish I had that answer.”

\- - -

They chatted for an hour about the reality of werewolves and what exactly had attacked Scott in the woods the night before. Scott immediately tried to pin the blame, of the bite and the murder, onto Derek. Stiles just informed him of the holes in that scenario.

“The person who died was Derek’s older sister, Laura Hale. While I don’t know what I am, I do know that my senses are on par with a werewolf’s. I could smell her when you found where you were attacked, along with two other scents.” He held up one finger, ticking them off. “One was Derek, worn out over time. He had been there, but he had not killed her. His scent was still fresher than hers. The second,” he held up another finger, “reminded me of the long-term care center at the hospital. Too sterile for the woods. Also, underneath that scent I could smell something that should, in theory, be impossible.” He leant closer to Scott. “I smelled their uncle, Peter, who has been in a coma since the fire.”

Scott stood from his seat at the table. “So what, are we dealing with a family showdown or something? How’re you so certain that Derek hadn’t killed his sister, much less bit me?”

Stiles shook his head. “Laura was the only family Derek had left. Besides, he is still a Beta; only Alpha’s can turn people with the bite. That rules him out of attacking and turning you.” He rubbed at his forehead. “The only viable option, then, would be that Peter somehow woke up from his coma, broke out of the hospital, and got to the Preserve. I don’t know why Laura was there, but she was, and she wound up dead.” Stiles shook his head, not liking where his thoughts were going. “Peter hadn’t been an Alpha, either, Laura had gotten that from her mother Talia. More than likely, Peter killed his niece for her Alpha powers, and while on a power surge bit you.”

Scott was incredulous again. “And you’re so certain of this how?”

Stiles gave him a glare. “Because while I didn’t know any of the survivors all that well, I know what Talia had said about Peter. It’s something that he would do, even before the coma and who knows what mental damage he now has,” he said, voice icy but stable. Scott backed down, unconsciously baring his neck to Stiles.

“Okay, okay. I get it, you know this better than I do,” he said. “But shouldn’t we talk to your dad, tell him what you think?” Stiles shook his head.

“No. If we did that, he’ll want to know when you found it, and since I already covered for you last night we can’t have that. Besides, while he knows all of my quirks he can’t tell the rest of the police that his son smelled this from a walk in the woods and came to this conclusion. Oh yeah, and there are also such things as werewolves, and the entire Hale family are like that.” Stiles’ glare hardened. “Not gonna work out real well. Might as well call the Hunters here with a big neon sign hanging on the front door.”

Scott ran his hands through his hair. “Then what should we do? We don’t even know where the rest of the body is.”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer when a thought struck him. He tilted his head slightly. “No, I think I might know.” Standing from the table, he ran up to his bedroom, Scott hot on his heels. “Whenever Cora came to visit, she always came in through my window, I’d leave it open for her. Derek knows that, had been in charge of making sure she got here and back safely.” He marched over to the window and quickly unlocked it. “With luck, just opening this will give him a scent trail to follow.”

“Then what?”

Stiles glanced back, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I get him to talk about Laura.”

\- - -

Derek didn’t show up. Stiles waited until his dad got home, and Scott left shortly afterwards. He was currently winning the argument over the little girl staying with them when he heard someone entering his room upstairs. Stiles smiled when he heard his dad give up and walk off to the living room, where Garrett and Snow were curled up with the little girl.

Quickly, he moved up the stairs to his room. Hopefully, that was Derek.

One glance inside told him that it was.

Stiles slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Derek glanced his way before returning to silently closing the window and locking it. “Glad you remembered that trick,” Stiles said, hoping to ease some of the tension. Derek sighed, shaking his head.

“Kind of hard when all you think about is your family,” he said, voice quiet. Stiles tilted his head, letting Derek speak. When the silence stretched on, Stiles thinned his lips and nodded his head.

“Where is she, Derek?”

The werewolf sighed again, leather-clad shoulders slumping. He turned then, green eyes locked on Stiles’ carpet. No words came out of his mouth.

Stiles tried again, “Where’s Laura, Der?” A flinch, but nothing else. He sighed. “Derek, I found your scent there. Faded, but still fresher than Laura’s.” Carefully, he walked straight up to Derek. “Now I barely managed to get my friend off your case and calling you the murderer. Dad’s right downstairs. Either you can tell me and let me record it so I can pass it off to him, or I can get him up here so you can tell him directly.” He peered up at Derek, forcing eye contact. What he saw in Derek’s gaze really did not shock him:

Instead of the cold, sharp green eyes he had gazed at earlier in the day, he saw the green eyes that had gazed at his mutilated back in shock. He saw the eyes of a torn apart fifteen year old.

Derek looked away. “Your dad’s outside the door. He can come in.” Stiles nodded before moving back to the door and knocking on it once. His dad came in, glancing between Stiles and Derek. Luckily, he didn’t say anything, just settled down against the door. Stiles nodded again before settling back in front of Derek.

“Where is she, Derek? Where’s your sister?”

Those green eyes glanced back at his. In a quiet voice, but still loud enough for his dad to hear, Derek said, “I was walking through the woods, through my family’s old property.” Stiles nodded once, prompting Derek to continue. “When I got to the property line, close to the stream, I...” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I saw the top half of her body. Lying on the ground.” Stiles nodded his head again, placing a hand gently on Derek’s shoulder. Never know what he might think of physical contact after Kate fucked him over. “I-I didn’t know what to do, I don’t have a phone so I couldn’t call the police. But I...” he shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

His dad asked, “Where’s she, Derek?” Stiles glanced back, seeing that his dad had moved closer. Derek released a shaky sigh.

“Next to my old house. But there’s a problem,” he said right as Stiles’ dad turned around. He paused for a second before saying, “When I buried her, she was in full wolf. There should be wolfsbane growing above where I buried her, remove that and she should be back to being a human.” Without even turning away from Derek, Stiles knew his dad nodded before walking away. Stiles smiled gently, rubbing Derek’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Derek,” he whispered. “Come on, want something to drink?” Derek closed his eyes but nodded. “Come on,” he said again, guiding Derek out of his room by the arm.

It only took a few minutes before Stiles was watching Derek slowly sip at a mug of decaf coffee. He glanced over as he saw a black shadow move in the living room. “Garrett, what’re you up to?” he asked, not moving from where he was. The black wolf moved into the kitchen, a red form hanging from his mouth by her scruff. Stiles rolled his eyes before pushing away from the counter.

“ _Laura wanted to see her brother,_ ” Garrett said by way of explanation, placing the little pup in Stiles’ arms when he held them out. “ _Now then, I’m going back to bed. I hope that wasn’t caffeinated._ ”

Stiles stood up as Garrett walked back over to where he had been curled up with Snow. Shaking his head he turned back to Derek with a small smile on his face. Walking back to Derek, he looked down at the red furred wolf pup. “Derek,” the werewolf looked up from the mug, eyes lighting up when he saw what was in Stiles’ arms. Stiles walked right up to him and asked, “Want to hold your sister again?”

Derek’s face crumbled. He set the mug back on the counter and carefully reached for the pup, for Laura’s wolf. Stiles let him take her.

Laura looked up, green eyes bleary from sleep. She yawned before cuddling up to Derek’s chest when he brought her closer. “ _Dawek,_ ” she said, mind-voice laden with sleep.

Stiles held back a snort of laughter, thinking it better in the moment. Especially since Derek looked so happy to be holding his sister again, even if technically it was not the Laura that he knew. Derek looked up at him, confusion in his gaze. “I don’t get why she appeared, though,” he simply stated. Stiles shook his head.

“I have a theory, but it seems even more outlandish than werewolves did to Scott,” he said, resting against the counter again. Derek tilted his head. “I think it might be because, unlike mom who always had a male and a female wolf, I have Garrett and Snow, both males. They have normal lifespans, so when they die I would need to find two more wolves, which is all but impossible to start with. As a failsafe, I think I have this subconscious ability to form a contract with a deceased werewolf’s wolf side to reincarnate them, only as a full wolf.” Stiles shrugged. “It’s a theory. I would say if it happens a third time, it’s fact, but considering it already happened with everyone else in your family...”

Derek nodded, eyes focusing on Laura again. They stayed silent until Stiles noticed the time and excused himself to get some sleep before school the next day.


	4. Chapter 3

Derek stayed the night, had breakfast with Stiles before he had to leave for school that day. With luck, Stiles wouldn’t have to deal with any bullying.

Garrett told Stiles that he’d keep an eye on Laura and her “pack-bro” as she sometimes referred to Derek. Snow was still recovering, but was more than willing to keep Laura occupied by letting her use him as a living jungle gym. And the Sherriff had decided that Derek could stay with them for a while. He also made sure to remind Stiles of his cousin’s arrival in a couple days, and that they were going to have to get the guest bedroom ready soon.

Stiles’ cousin, Lucas, had been bouncing around his mother’s side of the family for about ten years due to his aunt’s terrible drinking habits and subsequent liver poisoning.  Lucas was a little off, but from what Stiles knew of him he was of the same line that him and his mom, and was more capable of helping Stiles convince Scott and helping them get ready for when the Hunters come after them.

However, that was still a couple days away, and he still had school.

Which, as luck would have it, passed by normally, except for Scott’s almost immediate attraction to the new girl Allison Argent. Stiles didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he did not wholly trust her because of her last name. And with the full moon just a couple days away, he most certainly was not trusting Scott to be with her alone.

And you would think, with the small amount of headway they had made the day before, Scott would actually listen to him.

Instead he agrees to go to a party with her in a couple days. The night before their first lacrosse game, too, which if he makes front line he insists on playing.

By the end of the school day and on through the next day, Stiles wanted to bash his head in. Oh he could not wait until Lucas got there and he explained what was going on.

And they still had lacrosse practice.

Stiles considered, like he did every year, if he wanted to let his actual abilities show. If he wanted to get on the front line, or at least be more than a bench warmer. Back-up goalie, easily. Defender, not a problem. Just something.

And like every year before then, he decided against it. Although it was pretty damn reluctantly, now that he wouldn’t be the only one with a sudden skills boost.

Stiles shook his head. No, not the way to keep a secret.

He tried cornering Scott in the locker room, but to no avail. His brother from another mother was dead set on making front line, no matter what. Stiles tried the guilt card. Nothing. Using the fear of being ousted as a werewolf. Not budging. Not even trying to tell Scott about the fact that the Argents were the reason why his mom was dead seemed to make him reconsider.

Stiles purposefully ran into the bleachers then. Also didn’t tell him that they found wolf hairs on the lower half of Laura’s body.

Scott was being an idiot.

Practice was normal. The team captain, Jackson Whittemore, rammed into Stiles more times than he could count. He got yelled at by Coach Finstock, purposefully embarrassed himself by throwing the ball wrong. And that was before Scott started showing off for elimination.

At first it was the same as Stiles. Scott got rammed by Jackson, was given another chance at making the ball into the goal, and took it. Instead of what Stiles did, which was keep up the act, he actually dodged Jackson - practically fucking twirled on his toes as he did - and got the ball in the goal. Stiles glanced over to the other side of the field, noting that Derek was standing there watching, showing the expression for what Stiles was feeling: disappointment with a lot of apprehension.

He pretended to be happy for his friend, especially when he got the front line position he so wanted. Really he did. But there was no way for him to accept the fact that Scott was going to ignore every warning that he gave him just to be popular and have a chance with that Allison girl.

Once practice was over, Stiles just grabbed his bags and almost stormed out of the locker room. He made it to the door when Jackson grabbed his shoulder and slammed him against the locker. Bit his tongue hard to hold back the grunt. “And what can I do for you, Jackson?” he groaned out, amber eyes locked onto the supposedly stronger boy’s.

Jackson tilted his head before asking, “Where do you always go, Stilinski?” Stiles glanced to the side before shrugging his shoulders questioningly. “Never changing with the rest of us, never showering despite how dirty you get from your run-in’s with the ground.” Jackson gave a small chuckle and smirked. “What, you think you’re better than the rest of us?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, I actually want to keep you all from being mentally scarred by seeing the mass of scarring on my back,” he truthfully said, knowing that Jackson wouldn’t believe him. In fact, he scoffed.

“Yeah, right. Like you ever got into any trouble that could get you hurt.”

Stiles raised both eyebrows and glanced to the right. “Well, you don’t exactly know me all that well, do you, Jackson?” he asked, looking back at the captain. Jackson scowled, pushing him harder into the locker before stalking back into the locker room. Stiles bounced his head before continuing his way out of the locker room.

Man, did it feel good to let that off his chest. Actually admitting that his back was a mess that not even the best plastic surgeon could fix, if Stiles actually wanted it fixed. It felt nice.

Didn’t help knowing that Scott was not taking him, or his situation, seriously. And it was almost the full moon, too.

\- - -

Derek apparently had been coached through feeding Laura, either by John or Garrett, however that might have happened. He almost wanted to have been there if it had been Garrett. Stiles was going to have to ask them about that later. However it happened, when Stiles got back from lacrosse practice Derek was in the kitchen feeding her the bottle he had set aside for her snack. He was barely spared a glance. “Saw you take some nasty hits,” Derek said as Stiles passed by. Stiles only grunted before trudging to the stairs. “You sure you’re okay?”

Stiles grunted again, waving an arm at him before heading upstairs.

He threw his lacrosse gear into his room, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, and stalked into the bathroom. This was one of the days when he was glad that he could not perform the same shift as other werewolves. Oh, he figured that out four years ago. The reason why his mom always said that wolves should stick together, why Laura stopped by before leaving to give him the necklace that he had only taken off during showers. They were a specific type of werewolf. Human in every way except for their connection to wolves.

Stiles quickly stripped down, eyes focused on the ground, and stepped into the shower, mind focused on something other than his mass of scars.

Let’s see here: connection to wolves, heightened senses, far more so if he remembered some of the instances when he and the Hale kids had to run from Hunters in the woods. He knew that he was stronger and faster than a normal human, but not normal werewolf strong. He might be faster than a normal werewolf, though. Would make sense if that were the case. As technically a human, he would need to be faster, with better senses than a normal werewolf, but only slightly stronger than a human.

He barely took any time to shower. Stiles really never cared much for showers anyways, so he always moved quickly and methodically. Barely five minutes later, Stiles was drying down and stepping out of the shower. He spared a glance at the slightly fogged mirror, eyes tracing the one scar that moved up the side of his neck in a curve. It was the only one that he did not care that people saw. They never asked; he never told.

He lowered his gaze and dressed quickly. Derek was waiting for him, along with a bouncy puppy Laura. Stiles had no time to wallow, although he really did want to.

\- - -

Stiles sipped at the mug of hot chocolate in his hand, staring out to the backyard. Derek was outside wrestling with Garrett, his idea, and was getting his butt handed to him by the wolf. Watching helped to distract him from the complication that is Scott.

Right as Derek was pinned by a mouthful of teeth to his throat for the tenth time in the last half-hour, Stiles heard the patrol car slide into the driveway. He looked to the clock. Late by about an hour and a half. His dad was never late.

There was something wrong.

Stiles pushed off the counter, ready to kick John’s butt for being late, when the sound of two doors slamming shut made him pause. Okay, maybe he could forgive John for being late. His cousin must have come in early.

He knocked on the back door, making sure that Derek knew to come in. He got a thumbs up in return. Stiles nodded, walking away with a sip of his drink. Time to tackle a certain cousin and his two wolves.

Stiles set the mug down on his way to the front door, listening in as the back passenger door to the patrol car was opened to let two very excited wolves out of the back. “Come on, Snow, let’s go meet Diesel and Kerosene,” he said, a smile on his face. Snow huffed before getting up and moving to his side, a red fluff ball balanced precariously on his back. “And be nice to them. I know you don’t like having to deal with more than just Garrett but they will be staying with us.”

“ _Yes, Mother, I understand,_ ” Snow quipped, earning a tug to his ear from Stiles.

He pointed a finger at his white wolf. “Play nice.” Snow just huffed again, pressing his muzzle into Stiles’ side. As a precaution, Stiles grabbed a sleeping Laura off of Snow’s back, cradling her in his arms as he walked over to the door. Sounds of two people chatting happily filtered through the closed door. With a flourish, Stiles flung open the front door, crying out, “Lucas! So nice to finally meet you!”

The red head looked over from where he was pulling bags out from the trunk and grinned. “Genim, right?” he was asked. Stiles tilted his head in admission, walking out to meet his cousin. “Nice to meet you as well. I just hope that this goes better than up with Aunt Kate.” Lucas was chuckling, shaking his head as he pulled a duffle bag out of the trunk. “I see you have your hands full, but I might need some help.”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but Derek beat him to the punch. “I can help with that,” he said, walking up beside Stiles. The younger man glanced up, smiling at the Hale. “Derek Hale, Stiles and the Sherriff are letting me stay here until I can find somewhere to stay.”

“That is not a burnt out husk,” Stiles could not help but add in, even as Lucas’ grin quirked along with his eyebrow.

Lucas glanced between the two before he shrugged. “All right, Derek. Lucas Connor, cousin and officially the newest inmate at the Stilinski Psych Ward,” his grin turned into a smirk. John rolled his eyes, but Stiles is willing to admit that he himself squawked at that.

“Hey, we are not crazy. Dad is the Sherriff for Christ sake!” Stiles made sure to use the more socially acceptable religion instead of cursing to Fenrir like he normally did. Lucas still snorted.

“Uh-huh,” he said as he shouldered a backpack, waiting for Derek to pull the remaining duffle out of the trunk. “That would place him as the warden, then. And where does that leave you, Genim? Bordering insanity, or on the edge of suicide?” Stiles glared at him, unconsciously growling and baring his teeth. Lucas backed off immediately. “Okay, maybe not. It was a joke, Stiles. Maybe not all that tactful, I’ll need to work on that, but a joke nonetheless.”

Stiles deeply inhaled, paused, and exhaled. “ _And what did you say about playing nice again?_ ” Snow asked. Stiles just blindly reached down and yanked his ear again. Snow only yelped before wolf pouting.

John slammed the trunk closed, a backpack slung over his shoulders as well. “Lucas, Stiles is very particular when it comes to those jokes. Tact or not, it might be wise to steer clear of them,” he advised, supposedly in a voice low enough that Stiles would not hear him. He did. And instead of blowing up at his father coddling him, Stiles just kept taking deep breaths and focused on Laura, who was just starting to wake up. Her little jaw opened wide in a yawn. Stiles could not help it as he melted, turning back to head inside. As the three moved into the house, Stiles went into the living room to grab one of the toys he had Scott help him clean off the day before.

Lucas dropped off his bags before slipping onto the couch. “So, new baby, eh? Where’s her mom?” Stiles glanced over at Lucas, then over at the two wolves that were being, eh, introduced to Garrett’s teeth.

“What, you never had them just pop up out of nowhere before?” Stiles asked, half jokingly. Lucas gave him an odd look.

“Out of nowhere...?” he asked, head tilting slowly. Stiles blinked several times. Wait a second...

“You’ve never been around an area where a werewolf died, have you?” he asked, eyes slipping shut and hand rubbing against his forehead. “Oh Fenrir. Okay.” He took a deep breath, opening his eyes to watch as Laura attempted to tear apart a fabric bone. “I’m going to have to explain this to you, aren’t I?”

“Explain what?”

Stiles sighed, smacking himself on the cheek before looking up at the sky. “Fenrir, you have a sense of humor,” he murmured under his breath. He turned to Lucas and held his amber speckled green gaze. “A theory of mine, dear cousin.”

This was going to take a while.


	5. Chapter 4

It took some convincing, and Derek shifting in front of Lucas, for his cousin to come to terms with the truth of their heritage.  Lucas did appear to take it much better than Scott ever did, though, so it was a start. Stiles looked over Lucas’ schedule before filling him in on everything he had missed. They had identical schedules, luckily. Someone seemed to have planned that out.

Stiles glared at John when his back was turned.

Lucas also seemed willing to help out with the whole Scott situation, which endeared him with Derek. For some reason, the Hale seemed to be very interested in making sure that his friend did not blow their cover, more so than what Stiles would have thought. Derek had even went to the party that Stiles had given up attempting to keep Scott from, and came back saying that Scott nearly turned right in front of everyone there. Allison was back at her home, and Scott has been temporarily cowed, and had a minor run-in with the Hunters. Something still didn’t feel right, as if Derek was keeping something from him. He just shrugged it off, along with a nagging feeling in the back of his head.

The next day, Stiles took himself and Lucas up to school early, so they had plenty of time before classes for Lucas to talk with the principal and his guidance counselor about the transfer. Stiles was playing Tetris on his phone as he waited for the meeting to be over. He was so absorbed by the mind consuming game that he did not notice when Coach Finstock entered the office as well. Another fifteen minutes passed before he saw Lucas exit the office, a smirk on his face. “So, how did it go?” Stiles asked, exiting the game and placing his phone in his pocket. Lucas shrugged.

“All right, I suppose. Your lacrosse coach tried recruiting me while I was in there. Told him no, not interested to be under Whittemore.” Lucas glanced over at Stiles winking. “I still remember the last championship where my old team whooped Beacon Hill’s butts on the field, after all.” Stiles snorted.

“I keep forgetting that you had been the captain of that team. And that we had lost that game,” he said, leading Lucas to his locker, which they would be sharing for the year. “Do we seriously have to share this thing? I mean, not that I mind or anything, but there are other open lockers close by for you,” Stiles griped as he placed the combination into the lock. Lucas shrugged again.

“Hey, I was just told to share with you. My guess is because we share a schedule already.” They both paused, minds catching up with the circumstances. Lucas got it out first, though. “I hate Uncle John now. He set us up.”

Stiles shook his head. “Shoulda figured,” he grumbled, opening the locker. “Already plotted our schedule to be the same, go figure that he would get the powers that be to have us share a locker too.” He sighed. “Oh well. That’s dad for you.” He glanced over at Lucas. “Here’s hoping that we can get a shelf to separate our stuff.”

Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, that would be a good idea. So,” he tilted his head against the locker beside theirs, “when does this Scott person come in?” He glanced over at his cousin.

“Another fifteen minutes, give or take. Then we should have another five before the bell rings,” he explained. Lucas nodded, bangs falling out of place. He could not help but notice the similarities in how they were dressed: long sleeve shirts with a button down over top, jeans, and similar black combat boots. If it weren’t for the difference in hair and eye color, they could possibly pass off as twins.

Silence reigned between them, broken only by the sounds of other students entering the building. Lucas sighed before pushing off from the lockers. Stiles glanced his way before closing the door on their locker. “I honestly hope that having two people riding his ass about this helps. I still can’t believe it, by the way,” Lucas said, turning towards Stiles. He shrugged, amber eyes catching sight of Scott coming through the entrance.

“Got him,” he said, pushing his way opposite the crowd. He knew that Lucas was following, mainly because there was no one else that the red head knew in the school so far. Stiles approached Scott, a smile on his face. “Scott, buddy! Got someone I want you to meet,” he said, looping an arm around the other teen’s shoulders. Scott groaned.

“If you’re trying to convince me to steer clear of Allison after last night by introducing me to another girl, then you’re going to be disappointed,” Scott grumbled, glaring at Stiles. He just grinned again.

“Not my intentions here, actually. Scott, meet my cousin Lucas,” he said, gesturing to the red head. Lucas grinned in greeting. Scott turned his glare to him and nodded. “He just got here yesterday, came in a couple days early. Luke, this is Scott McCall, my brother from another mother that I told you about.”

Scott grasped Lucas’ outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled before stalking over to his locker. Stiles and Lucas shared a look before rolling their eyes. Full moon was starting to hit him, apparently. The two walked off to their first class, Lucas pausing to speak with the teacher first before moving to the open seat next to Stiles.

School went along normally, again, and before long Lucas’ presence had reached the ears of one Jackson Whittemore. Stiles was rifling through their locker when Jackson approached the two of them. “So, Connor, we meet again,” he said, voice condescending. Stiles glanced over, swallowing drily.

Lucas glanced over, doing a double take as he realized who it was talking to him. “Whittemore. A pleasure, really. So nice to see you haven’t changed any,” his words dripped sarcasm as he spoke. “I can’t wait to watch practice today. Hopefully you don’t extend your aggression to training your team.” Stiles shouldered his backpack as he watched a toothy grin cross Lucas’ lips. “Don’t want any injuries, after all.”

Jackson’s jaw tensed. Stiles slowly sighed, grabbing Lucas’ arm and dragging him away from his former rival. Score: Lucas-1, Jackson-0.

This was going to be an eventful year...

\- - -

Stiles was passing where Scott’s gym locker was when he found Scott leaning up against it, torso bare. “Dude, you okay?” he asked, concerned for his friend.

Scott was spaced, he could tell. Glancing around, Stiles decided to take things a step further. He got right up in Scott’s business and slapped him across the face. “Hey!” Scott’s exclaimed, eyes locking onto Stiles’.

“Stay with me, Scott. Are you okay?” Stiles asked again, eyes searching for any flash of gold in his friend’s chocolate eyes. Scott shook his head.

“No. It’s just...” He sighed, lowering his eyes and shifting his head to the side. “I just found out who Allison’s dad was. He shot me.”

Stiles blinked before sighing. “Scott, I told you this already...”

Scott spaced again, mumbling, “With a crossbow.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Okay, no focusing on Allison right now.” He gathered up all of Scott’s gear, pushing it into his friend’s arms. “Right now, we focus on lacrosse, all right?”

Scott refocused onto him, nodding his agreement. Stiles sighed in relief. He just hoped that this was the right move.

\- - -

Before practice began in earnest, Coach Finstock called them all into a huddle. “There’s going to be some changes in life outside of this field,” Finstock said, looking around the team. “From now on, everyone not sitting on the bench will have mandatory anger management courses once a week. Jackson, schedule yours for twice a week.” The indignant sounds from the team were nearly overrode from the yell of, “What?!” from Jackson. Finstock held up his hands. “I don’t want any more injuries than necessary. If you do not like these new terms, then you are not allowed to play anymore.”

Stiles blinked several times as everyone around him groaned and griped. He glanced over to where Lucas was sitting on the benches. This was another part of what he was talking about with the coach earlier.

Conniving, indeed.

“Oh, and Bilinski,” Stiles jerked his head back to Finstock, eyes wide, “you’re up first in drills, and if I see that pathetic excuse of playing that you have been giving me you’re officially off the team.”

He really started hating Lucas at that point.

“Coach?” he asked, chuckling hesitantly. Oh, this had better not be what he thought...

Finstock moved to stand in front of Stiles, crossing his arms once he was there. “A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back on us. No more of that,” he said as explanation. Stiles stared back, stone-faced, before sighing.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. Lucas was toast.

The team lined up, Stiles in the front. Jackson was in between him and the goal, not even bothering to stand in the full guard stance. Finstock tossed the ball to Stiles, who caught it in his net easily. He lowered his head before running head on towards Jackson. Stiles did not even bother trying to pile-drive the bigger teen, instead using his momentum to dodge Jackson when he reared in a flashy move. He planted his free hand on Jackson’s shoulder, pushed off the ground, and flipped over his shoulder. Stiles bent his knees when he landed, taking only a second to deal with the shock of actually landing before shucking the ball into the net in front of him.

The goalie couldn’t even catch it.

Stiles rose from the ground, turning back to the rest of the team. Finstock’s jaw was practically on the ground, Scott’s eyes were bugged out, and Jackson was practically growling in anger. Sighing again, Stiles walked over to Finstock. “Better now, sir?” he asked, voice monotone and cold. That snapped Finstock out of his shock.

“Mind telling me why you flipped over Jackson instead of just pushing him out of the way?”

Stiles shrugged. “I know I couldn’t move him, no matter how much momentum I get behind me,” he explained before gesturing behind him to the rest of the team. “Gonna get the rest of the team moving or something?”

Finstock stared at him for a second before shaking his head. “I want you in my office once this is over,” he said before moving on.

Stiles nodded once before moving to the back of the line to watch. The next guy was plowed over by Jackson.

Before long, it was Scott’s turn. At first Jackson had plowed him, just like everyone who had tried before then. Finstock goaded him a bit, saying that his dead grandmother could move faster than that. Stiles glanced over to Lucas, who was sitting up straighter. For someone who wanted the team to go through anger management classes now, Finstock had issues not prodding their pride and sparking said anger. Just with Scott, that could be a bad idea.

Scott went again, and if Stiles did not know him he would have had issues reading the tension underneath Scott’s skin. He gritted his teeth, ready to step in once things started going downhill.

This time, it was Jackson hitting the ground. Hard.

Stiles bolted over to Scott, who had collapsed onto his knees. He motioned for Lucas to stay where he was, knowing he could handle Scott from here. “Scott, stay with me,” he whispered, praying that his voice was going to be enough to keep him stable.

“Stiles, it’s happening again,” Scott groaned. Stiles cursed internally. The full moon.

“What, now?” he grumbled, pulling Scott up from the ground. “Come on.”

Stiles dragged him away from the field, and made it to the locker room without any incident. It was there that things started getting out of hand. Scott shrugged out of Stiles’ hold, shucked off his gloves, and said, “Get away from me.” Stiles took a deep breath before stepping closer. Scott whipped around, eyes gold and teeth bared, roaring, “Keep away from me!” He launched himself at Stiles, who only grabbed his shoulder and spun around. He pinned Scott to the wall with a forearm to his throat and a hand pressing down, past the padding, on his clavicle’s pressure point. Scott thrashed, snarling and spitting, attempting to break Stiles’ hold on him. But the more he fought, the harder Stiles pressed on his neck.

He bared his own teeth, growling at Scott. Stiles was beyond done with his friend and his antics. “Enough,” he ground out, pressing on Scott’s neck until his eyes faded back to their natural colors and Scott was pressing his head further back on his own, baring it for Stiles. He loosened his hold, keeping his forearm on Scott’s neck just in case. “Now then. I should hope that you believe me now about being a werewolf, especially after last night,” he said, voice low and threatening. Scott looked at him with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “You lash out like that at me again, you won’t like the consequences. We work on your control, tonight, my place. Understood?”

Scott nodded his head, looking like a bobble head as he did. Stiles sighed before pushing away, removing his forearm and hand as he did. Scott cowered away from him slightly, though Stiles assumed that it was because of him having to threaten the teen to get him to calm down. And then Scott opened his mouth. “Stiles, why did your eyes turn red?” he asked, head tilting slightly in confusion.

He froze, realization hitting him over the head like a sledgehammer. It should have been clear to him earlier, when Lucas first arrived. Stiles slowly exhaled, letting his eyes slip shut so they could revert back to their normal color. When he opened them again, he felt much calmer, more in control. Garrett and Snow were badgering in his head, wondering what was wrong, but Stiles ignored them for the moment.

“I’ll explain it to you when we get home, okay Scott?” he said, moving past his friend so he could grab his stuff and move to the bathroom to change in a stall. Once locked away behind a door, Stiles let his head fall to rest against the painted plywood.

He was an alpha. Fuck. How was it possible, he had never killed before. Then again, he never really knew what color his eyes would flash to. They never had after Kate practically took a pound of flesh from him.

His eyes flashed open at that thought. They had never flashed before. He was only calm when around Garrett and Snow, the representations of his wolf. He managed to coax Derek into telling him where Laura had been.

And he always kept Scott on track the past six years.

He would need to check some of his mom’s books, but it was possible that after reincarnating the Hale family six years ago, he had taken Talia Hale’s Alpha ability from her wolf, even though Laura had gotten it in werewolf terms. Most certainly going to have to check into this theory.

Stiles shuddered at the thought. He did not like having panic attacks, thank you very much.

With a shake of his head, he quickly changed out of his uniform and walked out of the bathroom. Finstock had called off the rest of practice, if the influx of teammates meant anything. Stiles shouldered through the crowd of teenage boys changing to get to his locker and shove his stuff into his bags. Scott was already changed, waiting for him to grab his stuff and talk to Finstock. Stiles nodded at him before doing just that.

Scott followed him to Finstock’s office, stopping a few feet away from the door and sitting down on the bench there. Stiles shook his head. Or maybe he was just going to accept the theory as fact now, from the way Scott was acting.

He knocked on the door before entering. “Needed to speak with me, Coach?” he asked the other man in the room. Finstock glanced his way, holding up a finger as he spoke into the phone.

“Uh-huh. Thanks, keep me posted about his condition,” he said into the receiver before hanging up the phone. Finstock turned to him and settled down against the edge of his desk. “You know, Bilinski, you’re lucky that this happened.” Stiles tilted his head questioningly. Finstock grinned. “I’m going to keep Jackson benched for this game because of his shoulder, and since Scott is our only main player you have a spot in first line open.”

Stiles blinked once, and then again when Finstock only raised his eyebrows. “Oh my god, you meant that,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine if you want to move a defense up to first line and I could take their spot, but... You’re sure?” Finstock snorted.

“Of course I’m sure! And besides, after this you can take the place of any player that might drop out because of your cousin’s suggestion,” Finstock said, waving a hand dismissively. “So, you going to take it or not?”

Stiles forced a chuckle out. “Yeah, I’ll take it.” Finstock’s grin grew.

“Good. Now get out of here.”

Stiles nodded before leaving the office. He held back a snort as he saw Scott scramble up from the bench. Oh yeah, he had gotten Talia’s Alpha powers. Now to explain this to Derek and Lucas, and to find out why.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you all for the amazing comments you have been leaving, they help keep a smile on my face most days.
> 
> Gosh, this chapter was difficult to write. Sorry if it seems choppy, I'm still not really happy with it, and I don't know how to make it better.

Stiles slammed the book he had braved the basement for down onto the dining room table, causing the three others to flinch. Derek was still glaring at Scott because of the slip up during practice, even though Stiles had already cowed the other teen. Scott was twitchy for some reason, fidgeting in his seat more that Stiles had ever twitched in his life. Lucas just rubbed the back of his neck, sleeves of his shirts rolled up to expose his right forearm tribal, a Celtic crescent moon surrounded by random swirls and yin-yang symbols. He officially started wondering if his cousin was all right in the head with that one. “So, this book should help us out, right?” Lucas asked, green-amber eyes flicking between Scott and Derek. Stiles glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

“Well, if it can’t, at the least I find out why my eyes glowed red,” he griped, opening the cover of the embossed hardback. Derek scoffed from where he was leaning against the far wall. Stiles glowered at him. “All right, you weren’t there, you didn’t see it. Doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.” Sheesh, who spit in his cheerio’s?

Derek looks away, grumbling under his breath something that not even Stiles could hear.

Scott’s phone went off at that moment. Everyone froze, eyes turning to the young werewolf who was slowly flushing. Stiles held out his hand. Scott whined, but handed over his phone nonetheless. With a flick of the wrist, Stiles took out the battery and pocketed it.

“Dude, what if it’s Allison? I just got my second chance with her,” Scott asked, incredulous. Stiles snorted.

“What part of not leaving until you have basic control over your shift did you not understand?” he asked in a flippant tone, handing the battery-less phone back to Scott. He received a pout in return. “Now then,” he said, flipping through the book to a dog-eared page, “let’s see what we have. There are a few more books I brought up in the kitchen if you guys want to help me look for information.”

Lucas rushed to the kitchen and came back seconds later, arms laden with five tomes. “What’re we looking for?” he asked excitedly, setting the stack down. Stiles glanced up from the page.

“You, I want to help me with finding information on the type of werewolf the two of us are. If there’s anything about genetics, focus on that. Scott,” he turned to his friend, pointing a finger at him, “methods of controlling the wolf and keeping your heart rate down. That is what triggers the shift.” He glanced at Derek. “If you want to help, looking for Hunter methods would be a good place to start. Third book in the stack should be the tome grandpa O’Connor had bought off of a Hunter estate in Dublin, added to over the years by mom. Should be notes in the margins.”

Derek rolled his eyes before pushing off the wall. “I’m no good at this,” he only said before sitting down and snagging the aforementioned book. Lucas handed one to Scott before joining the circle around the table.

They studied the tomes for two hours, each of them making notes on their areas of study, passing books around once they were done with them, and occasionally asking for clarification on some things, until John came home from work and Stiles had to stop to make dinner. Scott escaped to the backyard to wrestle with Garrett in the hopes that it would at least wear him down enough to bring a speck of control to him, Derek following to watch just in case. Snow and Kerosene stuck by Stiles’ side, keeping an eye on him and the toddling pup trailing behind him. “ _Stiles, I think the princess’ getting hungry,_ ” Snow said right as Laura plopped her butt down and started whimpering. Sighing, Stiles turned and scooped her up. He grabbed a bottle out of the fridge and quickly put it in the microwave. Lucas leaned against the counter, looking over the notes Stiles had been making.

When the microwave buzzed, Stiles snatched the bottle and shoved it into Laura’s muzzle, shutting her up and distracting her as she suckled it down. “Your mom really did know a lot about what we are,” Lucas said, flipping a page. Stiles hummed lightly, turning to face his cousin. “I could barely understand half of what I had found, especially once I got into the genetic differences. I understood one thing, though.” Lucas looked up into Stiles’ eyes. “We might just be the last of our kind.”

Stiles sucked in a deep breath, pressing his lips together. “How is that possible? There should be other families with this ability, or at least hidden branches of our family.” Lucas shook his head.

“Nope. Grandpa O’Connor, who was an only child of an only child, had three daughters, no sons. Out of them, only Aunt Claudia had been obviously like us. Aunt Kate and mom had been carriers of the gene, but that was it.” Lucas leaned on one arm and counted off on his fingers, “I’m an only child. Aunt Kate has no children of her own. Aunt Claudia and Uncle John only had you.” Lucas shrugged. “No one else, to my knowledge and to your mothers.”

Laura released the bottle and yawned. Stiles set her down on the floor before returning his focus to dinner. “Okay, so what differentiates us from normal werewolves and from humans? Genetically, at least.”

Lucas moved behind him, presumably to get his notes. “This was written in Aunt Kate’s handwriting, so we know that she knew about this. We do have the werewolf gene, as suspected. However, it has been mutated through mating and breeding with what they call Druids to what it is today.” Papers shuffled while Lucas continued, “From birth to our tenth year, those like us are normal humans, except they can hear the thoughts of their parent’s wolves, if they have them. After the tenth birthday, when their first two wolves are born, a hormonal shift occurs, much like when a human receives the bite. Senses heighten incrementally, strength and speed heighten past human limits, and agility increases tenfold.” Lucas begins pacing as he recites his notes. Stiles turns away from the oven after checking on dinner to watch him. “Additionally, the gender of both wolves causes changes in the brain. If the two wolves are of opposite genders, then nothing happens. If they are of the same gender, though, then brain composition changes. A sort of telepathic beacon for the deceased werewolves, so to speak.” Stiles nodded his head. He had assumed as much. “A contract is formed with the wolf on a subconscious level, and then like magic a pup containing the wolf’s soul appears, bound to the one who made the contract.” Lucas looked up at him. “Is that how you got Laura?”

Stiles didn’t say anything for a few seconds before sighing. “Yeah. And it had happened before.” Lucas jerked his head up, attention solely on Stiles. He shrugged. “Six years ago, I had been caught by the Argents in an attempt to break Derek even more. The only reason I was there was to have mom cooperate with Kate Argent. When I woke up, about two minutes passed before puppies started toddling out of the passageways.” He glanced away. “Almost the entire Hale family had died there. Most of the puppies had found themselves sent off to wolf sanctuaries out of state. Some, well...” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “It kind of is illegal to keep wolves as pets. Those who couldn’t find homes in sanctuaries or zoos were put down. The distance sort of broke off any contact I had with the ones that are still alive. Can’t hear their mind-voices anymore.”

Lucas looked away for a second, before whispering an apology. “There’s something else I found that might explain something.” Diesel rubbed his against Lucas’ thigh, whimpering as if disturbed by what else his human found. “If one of the wolves was an Alpha, even if they were killed for their powers or gave them away, whoever resurrects them gains those powers.” Lucas locked eyes with Stiles once more. “Just like your theory.”

Stiles closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Oh how he hated being right some days.

\- - -

Garrett deemed Scott stable enough to head back home after dinner, so Stiles gave him the battery to his phone and let the Beta bike off. Derek went out on a run - full moon and such like that - taking Stiles and Lucas’ wolves with him. Lucas had gone down to the basement himself to see if there were any more books for him to scour through, after they both had finished their homework. John was curled up in the living room, reading the newspaper like the only normal person that Stiles knows for certain right now. Stiles headed upstairs, hoping a quick shower would help clear his head. He was used to thoughts swirling around his head faster than he could process them, but this was getting overwhelming.

His best friend was a werewolf. There was an Alpha out there who is willing to kill. Derek came back, looking for Laura, who is now dead and reincarnated as a wolf puppy. Laura-pup now thinks that he is her mom, Scott is her littermate, and that Derek is her elder brother. Lucas is more clueless than Stiles had thought, but willing and eager to learn. Snow is injured, Garrett’s busy keeping a stink eye on Derek, Diesel and Kerosene are learning from them, and Stiles?

Oh, he’s just a freaking Alpha. Had been for six years now.

He punched the wall besides his door once inside his room. Why couldn’t things just be _normal_ for once? Why was this his life, again?

Turning around to press himself against the same wall he punched, Stiles pinched his eyes closed and let his head thump against the wall. Fenrir, he was so underprepared for this shit right now. He had promised his dad that nothing like this was going to happen until he was out of high school. Had promised to not start training until then. How was he supposed to keep that promise now that the supernatural world caught back up with him?

His legs gave out, all energy seeping from him. Stiles let himself slump to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and pushing his face into them. He knew that this was going to evolve into a panic attack if he didn’t get himself under control. Focusing on his breathing, like his dad had taught him, Stiles slowly dragged himself back from the metaphorical edge. His unconscious keens and rocking died down, and when he pulled away from his knees he could see the wet spots from his tears. Heaving a sigh, Stiles let his head fall back again.

This was not how his life was supposed to go. But it was his life now, no going back.

He just had to make it through the next year.

\- - -

He spent the majority of the night researching with Lucas, focusing now on basic werewolf things and looking into what exactly Druids were. Stiles was so glad that he had managed to get some sleep the past couple nights, because he had known that his body was not going to slow down anytime soon. By the time five a.m. rolled around, notes had been strewn across the dining room table, tomes were lying in random stacks on the floor, and their respective computers had to be set aside to charge from the overnight use. John had crashed sometime around midnight, and Derek had gotten back home sometime around three a.m. Lucas was as wired as Stiles was, having been drinking coffee and soda’s all night. It was lucky that had been the case, too, considering they also had school to worry about.

Stiles let Lucas have the shower while he started cleaning up their mess. He was careful of the puppy pile curled up on one end of the dining room table, making sure to not step on any tails or to wake them up, Garrett especially. Lucas’ two dappled gray wolves had curled themselves up against Snow, who in turn was curled around Laura. Garrett had decided to sprawl out next to Kerosene, his head against Diesel’s rump. Stiles had to hold in a coo at the sight.

It took time, but eventually he had the dining room cleared of anything supernatural. If he pretended hard enough, maybe he could even think that things had gone back to normal, where the worst he had to deal with was the occasional Nightmare.

And then Derek almost tripped down the stairs, and broke the illusion.

Stiles sighed, turning to the Beta. “Morning to you too. Only two hours of sleep?” He rested his hands on his hips. “I’d have thought you would need more,” he added, lifting an eyebrow. Derek only glowered at him.

“The Alpha just called to Scott. I don’t know how I know, but he did.” Stiles blinked before sighing, shaking his head. Derek growled. “Shouldn’t you be more worried than this?”

He leveled a glare at Derek. “I am worried. Trust me, I do not like knowing that my best friend could be used at any point in time soon, against his will,” Stiles commented icily, bringing a wince from Derek. “However, I also know that it will keep happening until we get rid of said Alpha, and that will only happen when Scott manages to make his way to him.” He does not mention a thought that had been nagging at him since he first met Derek, about Peter’s scent in the woods. Not like he was required to tell Derek that.

Derek ran a hand through his hair. “And what happens when the Alpha gets too much power over him, and has Scott kill someone?” he growled out. “He’ll bring the Argent’s down on all of us!” Stiles held back the temptation to smack Derek upside the head. Maybe he’d get a baseball bat just for that purpose...

Stiles was smooth in the delivery of his response: “Scott is no killer, werewolf or not. He’ll fight back.” Whether he really believed that or not, Derek apparently thought better than to question. “And you think I do not know that the Argent’s could kill us all at the drop of a hat? I have done research on them in the past years, you know. If Gerard or, Fenrir forbid, Kate were here, we all would have been dead years ago.” His gaze turned into a glower. “So do not think I know not the potential consequences,” he whispered.

Derek seemed to pause, eyes widening slightly. Silently, Stiles cursed. His eyes were doing it again. Taking deep, even breaths, Stiles slowly calmed the ire brewing in his chest. “Sorry,” he said, keeping his eyes focused on the dining room wall behind Derek’s shoulder.

All he got in response was a quiet, “No. I’m sorry,” before Derek walked out of the dining room. Stiles did not move even as he heard the front door open and close behind the Beta.

Suddenly, he just wanted to not go to school. Maybe he was the one who needed to learn some control instead of Scott.

Stiles walked backwards until his back was pressed against the wall behind him. For the second time in twelve hours, he slid down the wall and curled in on himself. And that was how Lucas found him, sobbing into his knees and halfway to a panic attack. Getting him down from that was difficult, considering Lucas had never dealt with a panicking Stiles before, but about half an hour later his cousin had managed it, even coaxed him into getting up and sitting on the kitchen counter as he made breakfast.

He could only stare off into the distance, eyes blank. Yeah, Derek had been a jerk about Scott, and talked down to him about the Argents. That did not mean that Stiles had to rip him a new one in what was practically an Alpha-voice. Especially since Derek was not his Beta.

Fenrir, he needed a Pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. There will be a -short- hiatus while I try to get more chapters ahead of what I am posting. Please be patient, I promise I will not forget about this!


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. Before things get started, I just have one question for you, readers:
> 
> How would you think this should continue? Because I know the game HAS to happen next chapter, but I do not know how to get there. A little advice is welcome, if you wish to give it.
> 
> Thank you, and please enjoy.

All throughout school that day, Scott stuck beside Stiles like glue. Well, except for Mr. Harris’ class. Stiles was stuck with Danny Mahealani, while Scott had to deal with Jackson throughout the entire class. Not like it was all together a bad thing; Danny and Stiles were a lot closer than Jackson seemed to think. Danny was just really freaking good at hiding it. Stiles really didn't mind. He was still fairly glad that Scott did stay that close to him throughout the day, especially after the morning he had. It most certainly calmed an animalistic instinct in Stiles to keep someone he was considering Pack close. Possibly just the Alpha instincts creeping up on him, though.

The one thing that did not match the normal routine of school was when Stiles received a call from John in the middle of class. Stiles was apologizing profusely as he stepped outside, a large flush on his face. When he took the call, Stiles somehow managed to get out something legible. “Oh Fenrir, dad, you had better be bleeding.”

John chuckled. “No luckily. I figured that you would want to know that, even though everyone here knows that Laura was Derek’s last relative with her own mind, Derek has been cleared as a suspect. The investigators are thinking it was an animal attack, despite the area being clear of wolves for sixty years or so.”

The world froze, temporarily, as Stiles took in the information. Wolf hairs were on Laura’s body, in an area that has not had any wolves in sixty years. Laura’s death being labeled an animal attack was going to cause problems for himself and Lucas, because the police are going to be looking for wolves in the area. Not entirely impossible, except for the Stilinski-Connor wolves, considering that wolf packs tend to migrate when pushed out of their territory. What was more realistic, though, would be the truth: a werewolf killed her, and now whoever that was not only turned Scott but was nowhere to be found. Oh, yeah, and they were also feral.

John’s voice jolted him back to reality. “Son, if there’s anything that you might think for this, I’m going to need to hear it. Unbelievable or not.”

Stiles shook his head. “Uh, yeah. When I first found Derek, I had taken Garrett out for a walk. I had managed to scent something where I found the puppy. It was too sterile to be from the forest.” He paused before continuing, “I also think I smelled Peter Hale underneath that.”

There. He finally said it. Someone, besides Scott, now knew the impossible theory he had.

John could only sigh. “If something like this happens two more times, and you smell that same combination, tell me. In the meantime, get Derek to look into his uncle, all right? And there’s also a curfew now; nine o’clock, everyone below the age of eighteen needs to be in their homes.”

Stiles hummed before hanging up. The curfew was going to cause issues.

This just got interesting.

\- - -

After lacrosse practice, where Stiles proved that he could, in fact, play front line, Scott disappeared into Finstock’s office. Stiles hoped that it was to ask for leniency for Friday’s game. With his tenuous control, Scott really should not be playing.

Maybe he should go to the counselor Friday, get some meditation tips.

They both needed to go to their mandatory anger management sessions anyways.

Stiles leaned against the wall opposite Finstock’s door, letting the havoc in the locker room just wash over him as he meditated. It might have been the only reason why he knew that his fellow teammates went quiet. He took a deep breath, scenting the room, and forced back a groan.

Lucas.

Pushing away from the wall, Stiles trudged into the locker room to watch as Lucas leaned in the doorway, an auburn eyebrow rose questioningly. “What?” he asked, laughter in his voice. “I can’t come say hi to my cousin after practice?”

Stiles just barely held back from face palming at that. Only his cousin would do something like that.

Jackson was the one to finally approach his former rival lacrosse captain. “You sure that he’s only your cousin?” he hissed before shouldering his way out of the locker room.

Stiles watched Lucas lick his bottom lip before rolling his green-amber eyes. He approached his cousin, shaking his head. “Well, that could have gone worse,” he said jokingly.

Lucas snorted, looking at him with both eyebrows raised. “Yeah. Right. You do realize that he just implicated that we were doing the deed within, like, a day of knowing each other, right?”

Stiles shrugged. “So? Let him.” He then added, “We have better things to worry about that Jackson’s idiocy.”

It was then that Scott left Finstock’s office, a confused furrow in his brow. Stiles took one look at him and whistled. “Okay, that is a, ‘Something happened in that room to make me question certain fundamental things about myself that were once constant,’ look if I’ve ever seen one.” Scott past right by him, not even noticing. Stiles shrugged at Lucas’ questioning look. “I’ve caused several of those in Scott before,” was all the answer he gave, already used to being treated like he was invisible.

Lucas shook his head before following him out of the still quiet locker room. “So, what are these better things that you were talking about?” he asked.

Stiles looked over at him and grinned. “We get to help Scott deal with his wolf-issues.”

\- - -

“I don’t need any help, Stiles,” Scott said as he walked out to the bike rack.

“Yes you do,” he said, trailing after his best friend. He waved his hands for more effect. “As long as the Alpha is out there, you’re going to have more and more issues like that dream.”

Scott just shook his head. “I’ll be fine, okay? I mean, Coach is still making me play, but otherwise I'm fine. Listen, I’m going to be late for work. Can we talk about this before anger management tomorrow?”

Stiles put his hands on his hips. He pursed his lips, contemplating it. “Only if you promise that we are going to actually have a discussion, and a meditation session before the game,” he said in a slightly authoritative voice.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Stiles nodded his head, watching as his best friend biked off to the vet’s office. Lucas walked up to Stiles’ side. “Is he always like this?” he asked.

He held back a sigh. “Most of the time, no. Recently,” Stiles sent Lucas a withering look, “yes.” He looked back the way Scott left. “I wonder if I have to threaten him again,” he mused jokingly.

Lucas chuckled. “Nah, just get him to talk about that ‘dream’ he had this morning where he wound up physically in his neighbor’s pool,” he said. Stiles shrugged. The two moved to his Jeep, fully intent on just heading home at that point. Stiles opened the driver’s side door to toss his backpack into the back when a silver Porsche came to a screeching halt before his Jeep.

“Dear Fenrir, what did I do now?” he muttered under his breath, slamming the door shut as Jackson slid out of his car. “What do you want, Jackson?”

Jackson all but snarled before pushing Stiles against his jeep. He forced the anger brewing in his chest down, knowing better than to unleash it on a human. “Where do you and McCall get your juice?”

Stiles blinked. “What, you think we’re on steroids?  I mean, yeah, I guess seeing two people who you thought of as nothing but losers suddenly becoming really freaking good at something can be a shock. If it were me, I’d be asking the same thing, you know?” he just let the babble happen, enjoying the confusion shining through Jackson’s expression. “So, tell me, Jackson, is this because you’re using and need something stronger, or is this just your constant need to be the best showing?” Stiles smiled, showing just a touch too much teeth.

Jackson’s snarl grew. “Just tell me where you get you damn juice, Stilinski,” he growled.

Stiles’ smile turned to a smirk. He hummed, “Not using any juice, neither is Scott. His asthma has been clearing recently, and me?” He scoffed. “Well, I needed to keep up appearances. Wouldn’t do to be clumsy everywhere except the lacrosse field now, would it?” He shoved Jackson’s hand off his chest, full on glaring now. “So back off, and stop acting like a child.”

The punch was so noticeable, Stiles had to force himself to not react until the last second. Within three seconds, he had Jackson in pain from a twisted wrist, pressed up against his Jeep, and had a hand pressing slightly into his injured shoulder. Jackson gasped, eyes twisting shut supposedly in pain.

Stiles could not help but take a silent inhale of the older boy’s scent. No sign of steroids in his scent, just pain, shock, and indignation mixing with the heady combination of expensive products he uses. “Don’t even try it, Jackson,” he breathed against the older boy’s ear. “I won’t let you win like I normally do.” With that, he released Jackson and let him scurry off to the Porsche. Stiles turned his head, tracking him. That was the only reason why he even saw Lydia looking at him like he was a new puzzle from where she had stepped out of the car.

Lucas, who had wisely let Stiles take Jackson on by himself, walked around the Jeep and slumped against it. “And who would that red-haired beauty be?” he mused.

Stiles looked back at Lucas. “Don’t even try it, Luke. I tried, and that was the first time she even acknowledged my presence since kindergarten. Kind of just given up on her.”

Lucas shrugged. “I’d still like to know a name, dear cousin. She reminds me of an old friend I have.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pushed Lucas off the driver’s side door. “Her name’s Lydia Martin, and for whatever reason she’s smitten with that douche.” He barely caught Lucas’ smirk. “And yes, there has been some major jealousy over her. You know what?” He looked Lucas square in the eye when saying; “I learned that there’s no way for me to really gain her attention, so I moved on.” He slammed the door.

\- - -

Derek wasn’t home when they got there after practice. In fact, he did not show up until the day of the game.

Stiles was not expecting to see the Beta leaning against the counter in the kitchen, moodily staring down at the granite. After spending the past two days worrying about him, Stiles had just figured that Derek was going to avoid him like the plague. He just lifted an eyebrow at Derek’s back when he saw him, though.

Deciding not to say anything, Stiles went about his normal morning routine, listening for anything from Derek to signal stress or unease. His scent had not changed, which was a good thing. As Stiles was preparing the coffee to brew, Derek shifted once, settling more against the counter. Stiles kept going through his routine, not letting a single question come through his body language or slip out of his lips. If Derek wanted to talk, he was going to let him do it on his own terms, not Stiles’.

He had already overstepped boundaries once. Stiles was not going to do that again.

It was not until Lucas came stumbling down the stairs looking like death warmed over, shortly after the coffee had finished brewing, that Derek even moved. Stiles looked up from the pan of scrambled egg whites as a heavily muscled arm reached to where the mugs were kept, snagging two before closing it silently. He held back a smirk, returning his attention to making breakfast.

No words were exchanged, just a light grunt from Lucas when Derek handed him a mug of untainted coffee and a loud slurp as his cousin drained about half of what was given to him in one go. Fiend, he swore. Not even John drank coffee like it was a religion.

Stiles pulled the scrambled eggs off the heat, leaving them on a cool burner as he moved to grab three plates and the loaf of bread for toast. He didn’t know how Derek liked his eggs, but Stiles _knew_ that Lucas would only eat them sandwiched between two pieces of toast. Especially after pulling a late night, which he could only assume was what happened from his cousin’s appearance.

Breakfast was quickly pulled together, Stiles carefully sliding Lucas his plate and waiting for him to be absorbed by his food so he could swoop in and nab the coffee mug. Derek lifted an eyebrow before shrugging and focusing on his own food. Stiles bit back a smile.

He refilled Lucas’ coffee and got himself a mug in silence. When he turned back to the counter, he could not stop the snort that burst out at the sight:

Lucas might as well have been attempting to stuff the whole egg-and-toast sandwich in his mouth, so dead he forgot how to take bites. Derek looked traumatized.

Stiles shook his head. “Lucas, there is an easier way, you know,” he said. The red head glared at him, pulling off the sandwich. Stiles set the mugs down before picking up his sandwich and taking a normal bite, praying that his cousin would get the point.

Much to Stiles’, and Derek’s from what he could tell, relief, Lucas’ brain caught on to what Stiles was doing, and he began mimicking Stiles. It was all he could manage, more than likely.

Washing his bite down with coffee, Stiles glanced over to Derek and lifted an eyebrow. About time to get some answers, he thought. Derek sighed heavily, shoulders drooping.

“I’ve been trying to track down the Alpha,” he finally said, voice quiet. Stiles hummed, letting Derek get it all out. “Whoever it is, they covered their tracks well. I can’t find them.” His green eyes looked up to Stiles’ ambers. “Could you tell anything was off where we first met?”

Stiles shrugged. “There has been something nagging at me for a while, but I still want to make sure I’m right,” he said casually, taking a bite to draw it out more. He really did not want to bring this up to Derek. There just was no other choice. Glancing over to the Beta again, Stiles sighed. “I had scented the area when Scott and I crossed into the Hale property. Something was off.” He looked back down at his food. “It was as faded as Laura’s scent had been, so whoever it was had been there around the same time as her. But what’s throwing me off,” he shifted slightly, “is that the scent was covered in ammonia and bleach. Kind of like a hospital. Could have messed with the scent underneath.”

He stayed quiet for a minute, unsure as to how to proceed. It was not until Lucas, who sounded much more alive, asked, “Who did it smell like?” that Stiles figured it out.

“Peter Hale,” he whispered, ready for the righteous anger from Derek.

Stiles held back a flinch when Derek’s right hand nearly broke the fork he had been holding. “What?” he asked in a low growl.

He swallowed tightly. “Peter,” he said again, this time more confidently. “But as I said, it could have been messed up by the ammonia covering the scent. And it’s not like I’ve ever really gotten a good scent of your uncle before anyways, so I might be wrong.” Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes flashed a bright blue at that comment. He forced down his instincts to make the Beta back down, and instead just glowered at him. “Derek, calm down.”

A sub-vocal growl came from the Beta’s chest. Stiles forced himself not to snarl in retaliation. “You’re wrong. Peter has been in the hospital for six years, there is no way for him to have made it across the country to draw Laura here.”

“Actually,” Stiles replied, “we don’t know for certain if I am wrong or not. As I stated, the scent not only was faded from time, but the base was heavily covered. Both of those factors create too much of a margin for error.” He took a swig of his coffee. “If you want to prove me wrong, Derek, then we keep an eye out for any similar attacks,” he continued, gazing into his mug. “Until then, Peter is still on the table as a potential choice.”

“Peter wouldn’t kill anyone, much less Laura!”

“Has he contested for the Alpha power before, possibly from Talia?” Stiles asked, voice hard. Derek stayed silent. “How would you react if, having contested for power before, you woke up from a coma already feral, your own pack having moved away to heal their own wounds?”

Derek gritted his teeth and looked away. “It’s not possible,” he ground out.

Stiles shook his head. “What I would do is hunt down my old pack, or have someone else hunt them down, and if one of them was an Alpha I would lure them back to my territory and kill them,” he whispered, looking straight at Derek. “I would take their power for myself, like I had wanted to do years before. And then, high off of the power rush,” he tightened his grip on his mug then, “I would hunt down the first human I find, and if I can’t kill them, I’d turn them. Start a new pack.”

Derek was shaking his head, though Stiles could read his facial expression: he was starting to crack. Stiles sighed. “Of course, this is also based on a hypothesis,” he added, chugging the last of his coffee. “Since the Alpha is feral, he’ll kill again. Depending on where and when it is, we might be able to get a better scent.”

Neither of them asked if he really wanted to wait for another death. Stiles really didn’t like the plan himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, there will be a -short- hiatus while I write the next chapter. Again, advice and your thoughts are appreciated!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed it!
> 
>  
> 
> Please Note: Names for the team and the English teacher have been generated, and are not the actual names for the students on the team.

Stiles rubbed his forehead as he exited the school counselor’s office from his second session. While it was a good idea to have the lacrosse team to go to anger management courses, it felt like he had talked in circles around the counselor. Like she was much help, anyways. Stiles really had no need for the anger management courses, but since they were required he had no other choice.

Yippee.

With a sigh, he shook his head. His feet automatically started taking him towards the locker room to get ready for the game. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Lydia introducing Allison Argent to one of the lacrosse team members. He could not be held responsible for the groan that slipped out of his throat. Really? Scott was not going to react well to this...

Stiles stalked over, hoping to intersect his best friend before he could make an ass of himself. Because he would wind up doing that in his wolf’s need to keep his “mate.” And it was just his luck that he had gotten within earshot right about the same time that Scott did. He didn’t even really need to listen in on the conversation to know that Scott’s wolf was not happy about seeing Allison talking with another boy in what appeared to be a flirty way. He forced down an eye roll.

Only his best friend would fall for a freaking Argent.

Déjà vu much?

Stiles slid in behind Scott right before he really started giving off the anger vibes. “Scott, buddy, come on. We’ve gotta get ready for the game, remember?” he asked, making sure to completely snap Scott’s focus off of Allison.

Scott blinked before giving a faint, “yeah,” and moving stiffly off to the locker rooms.

Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair. He gave a grin at Allison, who shyly returned it. “I apologize about him being a bit of an ass right then. Been a bit uptight recently, trying out a new asthma medication now that it’s finally started lessening, and I think I remember him having a terrible grade on that make-or-break test in English class, though that’s not really surprising Ms. Stevens has it out for both of us after all, but not as bad as Mr. Harris. Name’s Stiles, by the way. Totally not hitting on you, also, because like, you’re technically Scott’s girlfriend and I know better than to even try that, even if I was into girls to start with,” he rambled on, aiming to gain a small laugh from Allison. Mentally, he crowed as he succeeded. “Hope to see you at the game tonight,” Stiles said with a jaunty wave.

Allison giggled again before returning it, her smile a little more relaxed. “Hope you do good on the field, Stiles,” she said in reply before moving on to her locker.

Stiles turned around and let the good mood drop. Oh, tonight was going to be a pain...

\- - -

As expected, Jackson gave a lot of grief about being benched for the game, but Finstock was not letting up. Stiles was purr-growling sub-vocally, glad that not even Scott could hear his happiness and content at being able to actually play the damn game. Looking into the crowd, he spotted Scott’s mom, Melissa, who was sitting next to Lucas close to the bottom of the stands, and the recently made duo that was Lydia and Allison close to the middle of the crowd, but not John. He forced down the feeling on resignation and sadness at his dad missing the first game that he would play in, focusing back on the huddle.

Finstock was going over the positions again. “With Jackson out for the game, I’m going to place a heck of a lot of trust in you Bilinski. Cues and plays come from you, anyone who doesn’t want to listen can stay on the bench,” he said, voice definitive and strict.

No one spoke up; although there were quite a few glares headed Stiles’ way.

With a final look around the huddle, Finstock nodded his head once. “Good. Standard position to start out with, and remember, watch for Bilinski’s cues. Greenburg, you’re on bench as always. Now go show them what you’re made of!”

Stiles shook his head as his teammates yelled their agreement to that statement. Oh, they had no idea who they were going up against. As he grabbed his lacrosse stick and moved towards center field, Stiles thought through all of the stats for the team, and their most commonly used strategies. Their front line was difficult to get through, and even then the defense is tough to crack. However, the majority of their field positions left openings that, when targeted specifically and exploited by a person with enough speed and agility, like himself and Scott, were potential to be fatal for them. As he took position in front of the opposing team’s captain, Stiles grinned sharply.

And let the games begin.

\- - -

After the first play, when the team huddled around Stiles he knew exactly how they were going to play this out.

“All right, we’re doing things a bit differently with this team. Scott, there’s an opening to your left, right by the sideline. Slip past there and you’ve got a shot at the goal without their defense hitting you. Keep an eye out, though,” Stiles said, pointing at Scott. “Kingsley, I want you guarding Scott. Make sure that no one get’s his back.” Both of them nodded their acquiescence. “Reese and Lynn, mirror them, you two have similar openings. Shaun, I’m going to pass to you once I get past their captain. Play volleyball with Ben and me until you get a clear shot at Scott. If we need to, we’ll feint towards the two mirrors. Defense, if one of them get’s the ball from us and slips past unscathed, do not let them score no matter what. Guard Danny and let us handle it.” Nods all around. Stiles was feeling confident in the plan. “All right, let’s get a move on and show that captain of ours what we’ve learned while he’s been recovering.”

The team left the huddle at least chuckling at his stupid comment. Stiles had a loopy grin, though, so they knew it was meant to be like that. Danny pulled him back.

“Stiles, you’re sure about this?”

He gave Danny a scrutinizing look. “Are you feeling okay, Dan? Like, you’re being caring and slightly clingy in full view of Jackson.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Just answer me, Stiles.”

He snorted. “Would I tell them that plan if I did not mean it?” he asked, grinning at his secret friend.

This time, Danny was the one to snort. “Of course not, Stilinski. Now get out there,” he said, tone back to condescending as he pushed Stiles towards the center field.

He bit out a laugh even as he regained his balance and settled into position in front of the captain. Taking a calming breath, he waited for the whistle before snagging the ball, twirling around the captain like Scott had Jackson once. And so the plan went into action.

He caught sight of Shaun to his right, open and ready for the ball. Stiles chucked it, dodging the defense as they already attempted to pile onto him. Ben and Shaun proved quite capable at their little game of volleyball, juggling the ball between the three of them while keeping it out of the opposing team’s sticks and feinting to Reese and Lynn whenever the pressure got too much.

And then Scott and Kingsley broke through the opening, and Shaun tossed the ball towards Scott.

Stiles weaved through the defense, aiming to gain some of their attention if they thought he had the ball instead of Scott. He was facing off one of the biggest teenagers he had ever met when the ref whistled again, calling the play over. Stiles dodged the oncoming teen and turned to the scoreboard in time to see their zero become a one.

A huge grin crossed his face, and Stiles turned as Scott passed him, a grin firmly placed on his face as well. As he moved back to center field, he also managed to catch a glimpse of John sitting close to the bottom of the bleachers with Lucas and Melissa, all of the wolves collared and leashed next to them. Stiles felt much lighter, seeing his family there for him.

Okay, maybe this game wasn’t going to be as bad as he had thought.

\- - -

What had he been thinking when he had thought that it wasn’t going to be as bad? No, it just turned out to be worse.

While he had been in charge of the plays, they had been doing great, having managed the four goals blinking on the scoreboard. And then Jackson finagled his way onto the field even with his injuries.

Now, with minutes left on the clock, they were tied and it looked like the other team was winning. Oh yeah, and Scott was getting angry. Stiles could tell because, hello, he could scent his tension and anger as clear as day. And it spiked whenever Allison stood to help Lydia cheer Jackson on, and that one time that Jackson told the others to not pass to Scott. Which had just happened about a minute ago.

Needless to say, Stiles was itching to head out onto the field and set Scott back in his right mind. Maybe smack Jackson on his bad shoulder while he was at it.

Kingsley glanced over to Stiles in that moment, eyes catching and almost begging him for his cue. Stiles worried at his bottom lip, glancing across the field at how Jackson had the team set. He returned to looking at Kingsley after noticing that Shaun and Ben were also looking to him for guidance. Stiles nodded, flicking his head slightly to Scott.

All three heads nodded in unison before returning to their front.

Finstock was giving him an odd look, so Stiles stood and moved closer to the coach. “You did tell them that cues came from me, Coach,” he said as explanation, barely glancing his way before looking to Danny. A quick twist of a clench fist had the goalie nodding before silently ordering defense to guard the goal. “There are some out there who still are going by that, no matter that Whittemore is out on the field now.”

Silence stretched out between them as they waited for the ref to blow the whistle. Finstock sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Bilinski.”

Stiles smirked, nodding to Reese. “Of course I do, sir. Need I remind you whose strategies got those goals we have?”

With the whistle, his subterfuge went into action.

Giving off calming Alpha vibes towards Scott, he focused as the Beta dove for the opening from the first goal that the opposing team had not closed. Kingsley jumped into guarding him, tossing the ball towards Scott when Jackson threw it at him. Stiles’ smirk grew wider as he watched the confusion flood the captain.

Reese slipped through the front line as well, weaving closer to Scott as him and Ben played volleyball. The opposing team caught the ball once; only to be tackled by Shaun and Kingsley, who returned it to Ben. Stiles bit his thumb as Reese signaled that Scott had an opening to the goal, Lynn guarding him as he received the ball.

Once in his stick net, Scott weaved between the defenders before throwing the ball with seconds to spare on the clock. Stiles was willing to admit that he nearly broke through the skin of his thumb when the ball literally tore through the goalies net and into the one behind it.

The buzzer went off.

And that was it. The game was over.

\- - -

Stiles was patting Scott on the back, mainly for the control he had over the wolf despite the extenuating circumstances, when Allison approached them. With a smile, she managed to coax Scott into following her, leaving Stiles to deal with her father, who was slowly approaching him with the grace of a predator.

He heaved a sigh, waiting before Christopher Argent was closer before speaking. “I figured that this would happen when I heard that the Argent’s were back in town,” he said, popping a hip out and resting his hand on it. Stiles lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at Argent. “Here to threaten me or something?”

Argent gave him what he supposed was an innocent smile. “How about congratulations on the win instead?”

Stiles grinned sharply, not falling for it. “I’ll take the congratulations once you aren’t wearing a couple knives in the small of your back. Maybe I should tell my dad that you brought weapons to a high school _lacrosse game_ , Argent.” He could not help how he practically spat out the man’s family name.

Argent’s eyes sharpened as he neared. “I have a proper concealed carry permit on my person, there’s no need to do that.” His smile grew slightly. “And you never know who is going to be in any location at any time. Always best to be prepared, wouldn’t you agree?”

Stiles fought down a shiver at the words. ‘ _Those knives had better not be coated in wolfsbane extract._ ’ Outwardly, Stiles only tilted his head in agreement. “True, although there hasn’t been any problem at one of these games in the past. If you’ll excuse me, Argent, I would like to get out of these sweaty pads.” He made to move past the Hunter, only to be stopped by a hand gripping his bicep tightly.

“You harm anyone in this town...”

He snorted, loudly. “One, you don’t own this town, so you don’t make the rules. That’s the politicians and my dad. Two, I’ve lived here my entire life, Argent, and have hurt no one. The only people to ever be hurt in my life from this little dispute was my mother and myself.” He turned his head to hiss into Argent’s ear his next words: “And both of us were hurt by your family.” With that, Stiles tore his arm out of Argent’s grasp and stormed off towards the locker room. He might even be pissed enough to shower and change in front of the team after that conversation, scars be damned.

\- - -

The team was all laughing and joking between themselves when Stiles entered, his anger having died down to a low simmer. He silently moved to his locker, glad that he kept a towel and soap in there despite his reluctance to actually use them in front of the team. There was no way he was going to put up with the sweat and dirt today. That could be his excuse, instead of stating that he needed to get the feel and scent of Argent’s proximity off his person.

Silence fell over the team as, after shedding the jersey and padding, Stiles grabbed the aforementioned items and headed towards the showers. He kept his eyes lowered, not wanting to see the shock and questions in their eyes. He quickly stripped and got the water running, going through his normal swift movements from back home. There were eyes on him, specifically on his back, and he could almost feel the actual weight of the questions his teammates had.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Danny was the first to break the silence, approaching Stiles and stating, “You know, some people like men with mysterious scars,” before beginning to wash off himself.

Stiles closed his eyes and just let the water bear down on him for a second, absorbing the comment and subtle flirt.

Conversation started to pick up after that, though the stares really didn’t diminish. Though, as Stiles slowed down in his ritualistic five-minute shower to amiably chat with Danny, maybe he could finally get over his self consciousness about it and deal with the stares.

After all, what Danny said underneath his words was correct: “It doesn’t matter what happened, all that matters is that you’re you, I don’t care.”

And that meant more to Stiles than anything the damn counselor, or therapist when he had been seeing one, said in their sessions.


End file.
